The Grim Tales of Boni
by MyNameIsBoni
Summary: Bedtime stories for big boys and girls. WARNING: The author was high while writing this.
1. Little Red Head Petra

**~The Grim Tales of Boni~**

Bedtime stories for big boys and girls. WARNING: The author was high while writing this.

I own neither Gunslinger Girl nor Red Riding Hood.

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**Little Red Head Petra**

Once upon a time, there was a sweet little maiden named Petra who was loved by all who knew her, but she was specially dear to her grandma Olga, who did everything she could for the child. Once she gave her a little red velvet cloak. It was so becoming, the little girl liked it so much that she would wear its hood over her head at all times and would never wear anything else. But it got nothing to do why people called her Little Red Head Petra. As it was said, little Petra is a red-head, like her momma.

One day, her momma Rosanna said to her, "Come here, Little Red Head! Take this cake and bottle of wine to grandma Olga. She is weak and ill, and they will do her good. Go quickly, before it gets hot. Don't loiter by the way, nor run, or you will fall and break the bottle, and there will be no wine for Grandma. And when you get to her house, don't forget to say 'Good morning' prettily to Grandma, without staring about you."

"Okay, momma, geez. I will do just as you tell me." Little Red Head Petra promised her momma.

Her Grandma Olga lived far into the wood, a good half-hour from the village. When she got to the wood, the Little Red Head met Sandro the wolf, but she did not know what a wicked, perverted animal he was, so she was not a bit afraid of him.

"Good morning, Little Red Head." he said.

"Good morning, Wolf." she answered.

"Whither away so early, Little Red Head?"

"To Grandma Olga's."

"What have you in your basket?"

"Cake and wine. We baked yesterday, so I'm taking a cake to Grandma. She needs something to make her well."

"Where does she live, Little Red Head?"

"A good quarter of an hour farther into the wood. Her house stands under three big oak trees, near a heddge of nut trees which you must know," said Little Red Head.

Sandro the wolf whispered to himself, "This tender little creature is fresh as a bud! She will be a much nicer toy than that old hag! (Olga: Hey!) I must be very cunning and snap them both up!"

He walked along with Little Red Head for a while, then he said, "Look at the pretty flowers, Little Red Head. You are so solemn as if you were going to school-"

"I go to a Welfare Agency, actually."

"Whatever. Why don't you look about you? I don't believe you even hear the birds sing. Everything is so gay out here in the wood.

Little Red Head raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunlight dancing through the trees, and all the bright flowers, she thought: I'm sure Grandma Olga would be pleased if I took her bunch of fresh flowers. It is still quite early. I shall have plenty of time to pick them.

So she left the path and wandered off among the trees to pick flowers. Each time she picked one, she always saw another even prettier one farther on. So she went deeper and deeper into the forest.

In the meantime, Sandro the wolf went straight off to Grandma Olga's cottage and knocked at the door.

"Who is there?"

"Little Red Head, Grandma."

"No, ya ain't. Yer voice's too rough."

Therefore, Sandro the wolf went near the first oak tree to kick it but it easily broke down. "My," he said. "This tree is too small for me."

He went to the next oak tree and kicked it hard, but is was too soft that it sunk in right where he hit it. "My," he said. "What kind of oak tree is this?"

At last, he went to the third tree which was hard as a rock, and hard he kicked it that it he nearly broke his big toe. "Now, THAT is a real oak." he said with his voice in a much higher pitch.

And then he knocked again at Grandma's door.

"Who is there?"

"Little Red Head, Grandma, bringing you a cake and some wine. Open the door!" his voice is still as high.

"Lift the latch," called out the old woman. "I'm too weak to get up."

Sandro the wolf lifted the latch and the door sprang open. He went straight in and up to bed without saying a word, and tied up poor Grandma Olga with the bed sheets- sparing the blanket- and locked her up in the closet. Then he put on her nightdress and cap, got into bed and drew the curtains.

Little Red Head picked flowers till she could carry no more, and then she remembered that she promised not to loiter on the way to her Grandma's. She was astonished when she got to the house to find the door open, and when she entered the room, everything seemed so strange. She felt quite frightened but she did not know why.

"Good morning, Grandma Olga!" she cried. But she received no answer.

Then she went up to the bed and drew the curtain back. There lay her Grandma, but she had drawn her cap down over her face and she looked very odd.

"Oh, Grandma, what big ears you have." she said.

"The better to hear your moans with, my dear."

"What big eyes you have, Grandma."

"The better to see your body with, my dear."

"What big hands you have, Grandma."

"The better to catch hold of you with, my dear."

"But, Grandma, what's that thing pointing up there?"

Sandro the wolf looked down to where she's pointing at and saw his erection already in its full growth. He groaned in annoyance and thought that it grew too soon. Anyways, he replied,

"The better to ram you with!"

Hardly did he say this when he made a spring out of bed and pounced at Little Red Head. But Little Red Head was quick and side-stepped the _hungry _wolf. She then drew a revolver that hides underneath the basket's cover the whole time and started shooting at Sandro the wolf because, hey, this is a gunslinging show.

_BANG. BANG. BANG. _She shot three times.

Sandro the wolf, a sneaky bastard as he was, dodged all of them and was able to do it again when Little Red Head shot another three rounds till her bullets ran out. Sandro the wolf saw this chance, pounced at her once again and pinned her hands to the ground

But Little Red Head did not see of this as the end, and so she kicked and kicked, and at last she hit Sandro the wolf on his groin. And hell yeah was it painful, so painful that he yelped higher than an eagle's cry.

Now Little Red Head, finally freed from the wolf's grasp, walked towards her basket and, this time, drew out the bottle of wine. Just as he feared, Little Red Head cracked the bottle's butt on the wooden end of the bed. Its pointed crowns glittered by the fire.

"So," she said as she returns to the curled figure of Sandro the wolf with a maliciously sweet smile. "this is where I finally catch you, you old devil?"

"I've been aiming at you for long time..."

Poor Sandro the Wolf, before he could even utter his final words, Little Red Head Petra plunged the bottle on his throat, twisted and turned it while his foul blood sprays all over her face made a pool over the floor. Finally satisfied with his disfigured neck, Little Red Head Petra lets go of the broken bottle, leaving it still planted on him.

Grandma Olga, also, freed herself at last and went out of the closet, a little out of breathe though. Barely did she recognize her dearest grandchild because the girl was stained all over with red. Still, she did and even praised her.

"Oh, my dear, you did a very good job! Wait till your momma hears of this!"

Little Red Head Petra got a glass from the cupboard, scooped a glassful wolf-blood to the glass, and offered it to her Grandma.

"Here, Grandma! Hurry and drink this up. Drink from this strong beast's blood so that you will be well soon."

Grandma Olga gratefully accepted it.

"Such a sweet child." she said and then drank it down.

Now that the little velvet cloak, which Little Red Head was very fond of, was completely soiled by foul blood, the already-healthy Grandma Olga made her another one. And so, Little Red Head Petra was no longer the girl who always wore a red hood, instead, a dandy lady with a cigarette between her fingers who wore a lovely coat out of a wolf's fur.

The End.

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Review please ^^ If you want me to continue.


	2. The Princess and the Fucking Pea

**~The Grim Tales of Boni~**

Bedtime stories for big boys and girls. WARNING: The author was high while writing this.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Princess and the Pea (original)

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**The Princess and the Fucking Pea**

There was once a prince, and he wanted a princess, but then she must be a real Princess. He travelled right around the world- from kingdom to kingdom, from pubs to pubs, to the Seven Dwarfs' house, to the Tower with no doors, to Evil Stepmother's house, to Saudi Arabia, to the bayou of New Orleans, to the Narcotics-overdosed kingdom, and even under the sea- to find one, but there was always something wrong. There were plenty of princesses, but whether they were real princesses he had great difficulty in discovering; there was always something which was not quite right about them.

So at last he had come home again, and he was very sad because he wanted a real princess so badly.

One evening there was a terrible storm; it thundered and lightninged and the rain poured down in torrents; indeed it was a fearful night.

In the middle of the storm somebody knocked at the town gate, and the old King himself sent to open it.

It was a princess who stood outside, but she was in a terrible state from the rain and the storm. The water streamed out of her hair and her clothes- which sticked to her skin, showing those two little things that the king and the prince will soon be fighting over; it ran in at the top of her shoes and out at the heel, but she said that she was a real princess.

"Well we shall soon see if that is true." thought the old Queen as she jealously eyed the King who was oggling at the lass's wet and transparent clothes, but she said nothing.

She went into the bedroom, took all the bed clothes off and laid a pea on the bedstead: then she took twenty mattresses and piled them on top of the pea, and then twenty feather beds on top of the mattresses. Then in the morning, they are to ask her how she slept.

But, oh, was it terribly bad! As they entered her room at once when the sun has rised, they were greeted by the corpse of the poor princess which laid on the floor beside the bed.

The poor thing must have tossed and turned, fell of the bed and broke her kneck, as she was unable to sleep because of those fucking pea under her twenty mattresses plus twenty feather beds.

They saw at once that she must be a real princess when she had felt the pea through twenty mattresses and twenty feather beds. Nobody but a real princess could have such a delicate skin.

"Now, THAT," said the Queen. "is a real princess."

And so the Prince, greatly frustrated by the unfortunate events, searched for his Princess no more... but looked for a handsome, chivalrous Knight, instead.

The End


End file.
